


Kryptonite

by Kalael



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Gender-Neutral Runner Five, Multi, Other, spoilers up through S2M29
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 20:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3622764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalael/pseuds/Kalael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a special kind of hell to make a runner break.</p><p>The echoes of himself that Van Ark had seen in Five weren't imagined.</p><p>(spoilers up to Athena, season 2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kryptonite

**Author's Note:**

> basically I was mad that no one acknowledged the fact that Runner Five had nearly been killed by Van Ark and was DRAGGED BEHIND A JEEP while Sam was preoccupied by a damned JUMPER, of all things. A goddamn sweater. I am disappoint.
> 
> have some shitty angst.

It takes a special kind of hell to make a runner break. Being dragged behind Van Ark's jeep didn't do it, being hunted by cannibals didn't do it, seeing the ghost of an old friend didn’t do it. But Sam is hunched over that damned green jumper, muttering as he tries to fix the holes in the sleeves, and Five's hands are shaking so much that the headset tumbles from their fingers onto the desk.

It had nearly been the end. It could have been. It _should_ have been. Paula could have stayed with Maxine and they would have found a way to fix the anti-zom spray without the notes. They could have left Five behind. They should have.

Five knows Van Ark wouldn't have killed them. They are too valuable a specimen, too similar a creature to the mad thing the scientist has become. The echoes of himself that Van Ark had seen in Five weren't imagined. They are both survivors, and now they might both have become something monstrous.

Van Ark's blood had covered Five's hands. They had slashed the knife across his throat, and his tainted blood had coated their fingers. But unlike the unfortunate one-eyed soldier, Five hasn't gone grey. No, Five is alive and well. That is why they know they would have survived and that is why Van Ark wouldn't have killed them - because for all his talk, Five had seen the man's expression. His wonder at Five's condition, despite the bruising and the cuts that should have brought the runner to their knees long before Paula had come to turn herself in.

Five should have been contaminated. They should have died hours ago. Instead they stand in the communications shack, getting debriefed by Janine as Maxine tends to the scrapes and Sam continues to fix that damn jumper. It's anticlimactic, in a way. Five could very well be an immortal being and everything around them is just unbearably - normal.

"Well done, Five. We're glad to have you back, safe and sound. Please feel free to join everyone at the feast, you've definitely deserved it." Janine flashes a smile and pats Five's shoulder before leaving the room. Maxine hesitates, but Sam suddenly looks up and locks eyes with her. Five watches with a sort of detached interest, fingers still trembling. Maxine leaves with a lingering glance in Five's direction.

"Five." Sam finally puts the sweater down. Five can see that it's still full of holes. Sam hadn't managed to successfully fix a single one in the time it took for Five to get home. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." Five answers mechanically. "Alive and well, sure as I stand here."

"You don't look fine." Sam says. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is twisted into that weird half-smile that Five has learned to associate with fear. Sam never knows how to stop smiling, even when he's scared out of his wits.

Five purses their lips together. Sam stands up and stumbles a little, a sign that he hasn’t moved from his chair for a long while. Five had been gone for hours. They don’t know how many, actually. It feels like it had been an eternity. It still feels like Van Ark’s blood is on their hands.

“I…” Sam starts, and Five steps back as he moves forward. This causes Sam to pause and Five realizes that they’ve never done that before, in all their time here at Abel they have never stepped away from Sam. The distance feels as vast as an ocean, the tension deep between them.

“I’m not so fragile as that.” Five manages to laugh. Despite the desperate hitch to their voice, it's nearly believable. “It’s not the worst.”

“No,” Sam agrees, “But you look the furthest from ‘fine’ I’ve seen you since...since.”

Since that night Five had been stranded alone in the woods at night. Months ago, when Five was still fairly new to the whole thing. That was a traumatic memory, sure, but it has cemented Five’s belief that Sam is one to be trusted. Not once has Five doubted Sam’s word. The man is honest to a fault and he couldn’t back-stab someone if they presented it to him and marked the target themselves. So Five’s sudden unwillingness to be close to him probably alarmed him, and Five can’t blame him.

It isn’t that they don’t trust Sam. They just don’t trust themselves.

“Here.” Sam holds out a pocket knife and Five stares at it, uncomprehending. “You’re worried about...about the blood, right? You can test it. I’ll stay right here with you, okay? And we’ll just, we’ll figure it out.”

Five can barely move their fingers. Every artery, vein, and capillary is quivering. It’s a rush of hot and cold, mounting anxiety eventually leading Five to raise a palm in silent request. Sam cautiously steps forward again, and when Five doesn’t move he unfolds the knife. He opens his mouth but Five sighs out uneasily, so he just lowers the knife and makes a quick cut across their palm.

Blood beads up immediately. It’s a shallow cut, it hurts less than a papercut and Five stares at the blood with something akin to nausea. Sam is staring too and Five can’t read his expression at all, which is terrifying because he has always been such an open book, and they both stand there watching the cut and waiting.

Nothing happens. No regeneration, so strange coagulated oozing. It’s completely ordinary.

Sam gives a sigh and Five tilts their head towards the ceiling, closing their eyes and just breathing. Sam’s hand closes over Five’s uncut one and they stand in silence. The tension has dissolved into palpable relief.

“See?” Sam says, softly. Five opens their eyes and finds him staring, eyes half lidded and lazy smile on his lips. He’s trying to play it off but his fingers are shaking with Five’s where they are still clasped together.

“Alright.” The acquiescence is exhaled, drawn out and left open ended like a question although Five does not expect an answer for it. Sam squeezes their hand before letting go and returning to the jumper.

“This was for you. It was supposed to be, anyway, since I was trying to--well, there’s too many holes still. It’s a useless gift now, but I wanted to show my appreciation.”

“Oh, thank you.” Five takes the sweater and the holes really aren’t that bad, they’ve worn clothes in worse condition and the green wool is surprisingly soft. They pull it over their head, and it’s a size too big but it smells like Sam and coffee and, oddly enough, popcorn.

“It smells like home,” Five realizes, and they didn’t mean to say it outloud but Sam flushes red all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Um. Well. That’s--that’s good, right? Of course it is. I’m glad, then.” He leans forward and for a moment Five thinks he’s going for a kiss, but instead Sam gives them an awkward one-armed hug that lasts a little too long for it to be as casual as he wants it to seem. Five pats his back with their good hand, reassuring, and Sam finally pulls away.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” It takes some effort to smile but Five means every strained inch of it, the gratitude sincere.

“You’re welcome. So, Five, I--you should come to the feast. You know, when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you?” Sam doesn’t finish his first thought, but Five doesn’t push it.

“How about I just meet you there?” Their voice is thin, tremulous, and Sam gives a jerky nod.

“Alright. I’ll see you there, then.” He gives a smile as he leaves, and his ears are still pink, and Five wants to chase after him but instead they look down at their palm. 

The cut is already gone, with nothing but a smear of dried blood to mark it.


End file.
